rush

Awake again in the middle of the night, knowing that tomorrow morning will come and I will hate the sun and myself for the lack of sleep.  And time … so little to try to accomplish so much.  So many voices that would like to converse with me, hang out with me, things that I would like to see and do and be … if not for the lack of time.  Some people understand how my days and nights are shaped, understand that I have so little time and so much that fills it.  Some people don’t and always want some of my time that I can’t give.  It’s wearying.  And I don’t know what to say anymore, so sometimes I just say nothing and leave messages hanging there.

I missed my page count this week.  I admitted missing my page count in my process notes.  Actually I would have made my page count if I included in the false starts and wrong turns–those pages are written, scribbled in my notebook, but why type them other than to have the correct number.  Why waste the time (already wasted once in the scribbling, but not, because it eventually helped me find the right path, or at least a more correct path).  I’m rambling.

There are things I feel like I need to say, but I just don’t know how.  I’m tired.  My Monday night class is done, one paper revised and the last one submitted and now I only await the final grade (I fear the pock mark of a B+ …). But otherwise it is done.  Am I happy?  I will be next week when I don’t go, when I instead continue to work on my writing for my Wednesday night project, when I continue any of the number of things that need to be done still.

Saturday is Halloween.  I have a party I am going to on Friday night, brunch with my friend Katie on Saturday morning, party Saturday night and another party Saturday night?  First party is my friend Paige’s, also her birthday and it’s with Hamline folks, so I’m going.  Afterwards, my college friend Sara just invited me along to whatever shenanigans they have planned for the evening, something downtown Mlps … I think I like the sound of that excursion and I normally don’t like downtown Minneapolis on Saturday night.  My costume is simple and recognizable this year:  Captain Kirk.  Thirteen year old me is happy at this choice.

Bed now, morning rushes upon me too soon.

More later …

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Published by: Thomas Rohde

Artist // Writer // Theatre Professional // Nerd // Night Owl Inspired by a steady and lifelong infusion of pop culture, comic books, and a vast assortment of films and books, our friendly neighborhood blogger has doomed himself to a life of creative pursuits. There's not enough time for everything, but we all do what we can. Artist: of watercolor, ink, comic illustration, horror/ sci-fi/ fantasy art. Writer: of fictions, tweets, captions & blogs. Lover: coffee, whiskey, wine & beer. Instagram and Twitter as @demipho

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